Page 60 of Forgotten Deeds

“I promise you it won’t happen again,” Detective Regan adds.

“It better fucking not. I’d hate for that video from the Jersey Motor Inn to come to light.” Cops aren’t the only ones who can set up a sting, and lucky for the family, the detective loves to visit male prostitutes. “You’re what, just a few years from retirement?”

“Two,” he answers tightly.

“In the home stretch,” I comment. “Well, see you around, detective. Kiss your wife and kids for me.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lily

The men exchange a few words before Darius returns, flipping off the emergency lights as we continue driving.

“What just happened?” I ask quietly.

“He won’t bother you anymore,” he assures me.

“Just like that?” I say in shock.

“Just like that.”

“Darius?”

He looks over to me. “Yes, wifey?”

“Never mind.” I don’t even know what I was going to say, so I just close my eyes, leaning my head back against the seat. Except my brain won’t stop screaming: Harrison is dead! Remembering I have a mountain of messages to go through—now I know why—I grab my phone.

Three messages from Harrison’s partner. Pressing play on the first one, I listen to Ethan’s choked up voice relaying the news. God, I feel awful—Ethan thought something was wrong with Harrison, and I downplayed his concerns.

I search the local news, finding an article about Harrison’s death.

Police are investigating a homicide that appears to have stemmed from a home burglary. The victim was pronounced dead at the scene. Anyone with information is asked to call Newark Police Department Homicide Detectives.

Finding Ethan’s contact, I send him a message.

Got your messages about Harrison. I haven’t broken the news to Iris yet, but please keep me posted about funeral arrangements.

Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you and stopped by your place like five times.

Not knowing how I should respond, I ignore him for the time being.

I listen to two other voicemails—both from Detective Regan. The more I think about it, the madder it makes me. Like I would really kill my daughter’s father! I get the detective was only doing his job, but it’s still absurd.

Checking my email, I hold my breath as I open a message from the Chair of The Department of Classical Studies. “I’ve been accepted to grad school!”

“Congratulations. I’m so proud of you,” Darius tells me with a big grin.

“Thank you,” I say, smiling, but that celebratory feeling is short-lived when the guilt kicks in. I just found out my child’s father is dead, after all, and it feels wrong to be so happy.

Iris wakes up disoriented and begins crying, and I turn around and squeeze her leg. “Hey, sweetie. It’s okay. We’re in the car driving to Darius’ house.”

“And I have a big surprise for the rainbow goddess,” Darius says.

“What is it?” Iris asks, rubbing her eyes.

“Now you sound like your mama.” He chuckles. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

We make our way out of downtown, turning into a nice, understated neighborhood. “You live in the burbs?” I ask, surprised.

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